


Your love can do what no one else can

by becka



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Barebacking, Established Relationship, M/M, Where We Are Tour
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-31
Updated: 2014-07-31
Packaged: 2018-02-11 04:07:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2052942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/becka/pseuds/becka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Niall and Louis find a quiet corner backstage.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your love can do what no one else can

**Author's Note:**

  * For [temerity (forsanethaec)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/forsanethaec/gifts).



> Written for [Annie](http://archiveofourown.org/users/forsanethaec/pseuds/temerity)'s birthday, and then posted a month late, but with lots and lots of love. <33
> 
> Thanks to [balefully](http://archiveofourown.org/users/balefully) for reading this repeatedly and making it better. <3
> 
> Title from "Crazy in Love".

Louis’s chasing Liam with a bottle of water, shaking it ineffectually in his direction, spraying Jon and Sandy by mistake as Zayn ducks out of the way. Liam’s faster than Louis is on even ground, and as Louis lurches forward in a last attempt to reach him, Niall catches him around the waist. Niall’s fingers dig into Louis’s hip, and Louis loses his breath for a moment, spins round to look at him and then instinctively upends the bottle over Niall’s head. Niall doesn’t seem to mind, laughing and wiping his wet face against Louis’s t-shirt, pressing a small, secret kiss to his belly.

It’s like the world goes quiet for a moment, Niall grinning up at him, shaking out his hair. “Get me a towel, would you, Tommo?” Niall says with a wink, hand still smoothing over the curve of Louis’s hip, not letting him go. “Reckon there’s one in the other room.”

“You might have to help me find it,” replies Louis deliberately, raising his eyebrows to be absolutely sure Niall gets it. “Towels and me, we don’t mix much.”

“Dirty boy, eh?” Niall whispers this into his hip, rubbing his head against Louis’s t-shirt.

“There’s a towel right here, mate,” calls Liam, flopping onto the sofa beside Harry.

“Reckons that’s not the point,” says Harry, not even looking up from his phone, and Louis is flustered in spite of himself, knowing everyone in the bloody room knows what he’s really asking for now. It’s not a secret, but it’s not something Louis really wants to advertise either. 

He walks to the door anyway, looks over his shoulder just once to check Niall is following. Under the stadium is an even bigger maze of hallways and little incidental rooms than he’d got used to in the arenas last year, and Louis heads for the room they’d used for meet and greets before the show, navigating by memory. It’s empty now except for the sagging curtain they’d had for photos, stacks of chairs and folded tables against the wall, and a sofa that looks lonely and out of place slapped in the middle of the room. It’s convenient though, for what Louis wants.

Niall comes up to kiss the back of his neck, kicking the door shut behind him, and Louis melts back into him, going so easy for Niall in private. Niall makes him want to be gentle and cuddle and say nice things all the time, and he doesn’t know what to do with it besides fight it off as best he can. “I’m still fucking soaked,” says Niall, pressing his damp chest all along Louis’s back, his arms going snugly round Louis’s waist.

“Poor planning or your part, innit? Maybe bring an umbrella next time.”

Niall bites his shoulder in response, half on the fabric of his vest and half on his bare skin. Louis shivers back into him, makes a gruff little noise when Niall’s steady hands wander down to his hips. Niall kisses his neck, all slow and focused, like he would leave marks if he could, but the time when that was okay is long gone. Louis takes deep breaths, trying not to shake, not to give himself away too soon.

“Can I kiss you?” asks Niall, and Louis turns in his arms until he can, pressing their lips together while Niall’s hands trace distracted patterns over Louis’s arse. Louis watches for a second as Niall’s eyes close, just before he closes his too, and the rhythm of their breath together is the loudest sound in the room.

Louis rubs his knuckles down Niall’s sides and waits for the ticklish shiver that goes down Niall’s spine. He loves knowing so much about Niall’s reactions, even if it means Niall knows his too. And he’s been thinking about this all night, could barely keep his hands from wandering on stage, fucking with Niall’s guitar, tugging at his t-shirt, patting him on the back and bunching his hand in the fabric of Niall’s top. 

Niall’s getting hard against Louis’s hip, and Louis leans into him, rubbing against his hard-on like a needy cat. “Want my mouth?” Louis asks, licking his lips.

Niall grins and shakes his head. “Had somethin’ else in mind.” He takes Louis’s hand and shoves it into the front pocket of his jeans, and at first Louis thinks it’s some niche handjob technique, but then he catches the crisp plastic square of a condom between his fingertips and takes a sharp breath. There’s a little sachet of lube in there too, and Louis’s stomach squirms.

“You had this on you all night?” he asks. “When we were out there in front of all those people?”

“Bet your sweet, bouncy arse I did.” Niall kisses his cheek. “Reckoned we’d need a little something when we finished. Bit of time to wind down.”

Louis strokes over the edge of the condom packet, imagines Niall thinking about this before the show, planning it out, like he knew tonight wasn’t a night when they could wait until they got on the bus. “You going to fuck me then?” Louis asks.

“That alright?” Niall asks, as though it might not be.

Louis swallows loudly. “Exactly what I need, love. Exactly right.” Now that he’s thinking of it, he’s practically aching. He’s got to get Niall’s dick in him soon.

They kiss clumsily on the sofa, Louis leant in close with his knees bracketing Niall’s hips, his hands against Niall’s chest. He strokes over the sparse fluff of hair above the gaping neck of Niall’s vest, resists the urge to tug at it and make Niall yelp. That’s on-stage stuff, stuff to work Niall up when he can’t tease in all the ways he likes best. Louis bends to take one of Niall’s small, sweat-salty nipples into his mouth and bites down gently, Niall’s fingers tightening on his waist. The swollen shape of Niall’s dick is held in by his skinnies, but he scoots his hips forward on the sofa as Louis goes for the other nipple, sucking it sharply to make Niall swear.

The only thing Louis doesn’t like about Niall’s new habit of skintight jeans on his skinny legs is how bloody hard it is to get them off when he’s impatient, and he’s getting impatient now. He lets Niall handle it though, wants to stay clear of jostling Niall’s knee any way he can. The fear of hurting him is very real, and it’s the last thing Louis wants to do when Niall’s trusting him not to. He tumbles off to the side, giving Niall room to work, and even the way he lifts his hips to ease his jeans down and off makes Louis’s dick twitch.

“Come back,” says Niall, bare arsed on the sofa, his prick standing up ready and willing. Louis shucks his own jeans and pants off and settles into Niall’s lap again, Niall’s hand sliding around both their dicks immediately, giving a few gentle strokes.

Louis loves and hates the way Niall watches him when they’re fucking. He never thought about how intensely Niall could _look_ until the first time Louis was gasping and arching under him, trying to get Niall to wank him faster, and Niall’s eyes were just eating him up. Now he stares at Louis’s face as he grips their cocks, lube and condom tossed on the sofa cushion beside them. Louis’s not desperate enough to say it out loud yet, but he gives the lube a meaningful look. “Want me to fuck you, darlin’?” Niall asks. “All you’ve gotta do is ask me. Can you ask me?”

Louis gives a plaintive little groan to show he objects to the question. He rocks his hips into Niall’s trying to get some friction for his stiff cock, but Niall’s not moving his hand anymore. “Let me ride you,” says Louis, very softly, and Niall doesn’t make him beg, grins into his mouth and kneads a hand along the curve of Louis’s arse.

Niall drags his fingers down the crack, and Louis is already jumpy and oversensitive with how much he wants. He hasn’t showered yet, and Niall’s fingers are finding him slick with sweat back there, easing over his hole in smooth circles. Louis’s body wants to open up to him, even before the pocket-warm drizzle of lube is squirted into his crack. But after that it’s easy, the press of Niall’s fingers into him, two at once because Niall knows he can take it. They slide past his burning rim, stretching him out and making him wriggle on them. He wants as much of Niall as he can get right now, but Niall’s still thrusting shallowly, his other arm surprisingly strong hooked around Louis’s waist. “Fuck,” Louis bites out, tensing around Niall’s fingers, trying to get them where he needs them, but Niall won’t move any more, barely letting Louis rock back onto his fingers. His cock is poking up straight in the splay of Louis’s thighs, sometimes bobbing into Louis’s own.

“Niall,” Louis whispers, nudging his mouth against Niall’s. “Niall. Niall. Neil. What’s the delay?” He bites Niall’s lip, tugging sharply with his teeth.

Niall’s cheeks are flushed and his pupils are huge, but he’s still grinning. “Maybe I just like this, Tommo. Maybe I’ve got exactly what I want.”

Louis raises his eyebrows, drags his thumbnail over the head of Niall’s cock hard enough to make Niall yelp. “You don’t,” says Louis, lifting himself off Niall’s fingers until only the tips are still snugged inside his arse, and then wriggling away completely. Niall grabs onto the back of his thigh as Louis settles himself against the tip of Niall’s cock instead.

“Condom?” says Niall, tensing a bit as Louis grabs for his cock to rub it in the mess of slick between his arsecheeks.

“We could not,” replies Louis.

Niall wrinkles his nose sceptically. “You hated that last time.” They’d only tried it without a condom once, and Louis had been grossed out by the slither of Niall’s come from his arse after, the way he could feel it between his cheeks for hours. He’d whinged and wriggled and pretended he didn’t see Niall looking guiltily turned on by his discomfort. The sex itself had been ace though.

“Need a shower anyway,” says Louis, almost casual. He wants the heat of Niall’s bare cock inside him, knows how much Niall’ll like it, and he’s already a mess from the show.

“Filthy,” says Niall, and he grips Louis’s hips and pulls him down onto his cock. It’s slow and too careful, and Niall is watching his face so intently that Louis has to close his eyes. He tips his head back, angling for Niall’s mouth against the side of his neck, and every inch of Niall’s cock sliding into him just makes him greedy for more. When Niall’s finally settled deep in him, he curls his hands around Louis’s hips and stays, keeps him filled up all the way. “Filthy,” says Niall again, as Louis struggles to get his knees under him, trying to move on Niall’s cock, trying to fuck himself on it. The pressure of it inside him is so good, but he needs more, circling his hips to feel the thickness of Niall’s cock against his prostate, panting breathlessly into Niall’s hair.

“Please,” he says finally, reluctantly, Niall’s fingers biting into his hips, his biceps bulging as he holds Louis tight in his lap. Skinny arms but fucking strong.

“Wanna go for a ride, darlin’?” asks Niall. He tugs at the lobe of Louis’s ear with his teeth, and Louis moans helplessly.

“Yeah,” says Louis. “Fuck. Yes.” Niall talks more when they do this the other way round, a constant stream of “yes” and “harder” and “I love you so much” while Louis moves inside him, but like this he’s so quiet, pressing his lips to the curve of Louis’s collarbone as he lets Louis do the work. Louis wishes he understood what the difference was, what makes Niall feel like he’s got something to say or he doesn’t. But he can’t ask Niall to tell him it’s good while he’s fucking himself deep and slow on Niall’s cock, not when Louis can’t say it for himself. He looks at Niall’s face and wills him to know how good it is for him, gently kissing the corner of Niall’s mouth as he lifts up and then settles into his lap again.

Louis keeps still for a moment when their thighs touch this time, bringing their mouths together in a deep kiss, fighting off the urgency, wanting to make it last.

“Thought about this all fucking night,” says Niall finally, biting at Louis’s ear again and stroking his hands over the curve of Louis’s hips, then down the splay of his thighs and far away from his stiff cock.

“Yeah,” agrees Louis. He gives a tentative little squeeze around Niall, bearing down on the thick heat of him. It makes him feel weak-kneed and trembly all over again, filled to the brink on Niall’s bare cock, not wanting to give it up. Niall lets him tease, looks up at him all sweet and flushed and wanting while Louis sits in his lap doing absolutely bloody nothing. He brought a condom and lube on stage with him, must have felt it in his pocket all the time they were out there, and Louis wonders if there’ll be pictures tomorrow of Niall casually staring at his bum, imagining exactly this. 

“Unprofessional though,” Louis manages, slurring around the words, and Niall grimaces as Louis rocks up and down a bit, barely getting his knees under him for a proper thrust. “Should have been thinking about the fans, yeah? Should have been focused on musicianship.” He can’t talk to Niall about how fucking perfect it as the slick head of his cock drags over Louis’s prostate; he can’t admit he never wants to do anything but this again; but he can chide and tease and make Niall stifle a breathless laugh against his shoulder. He loves making Niall laugh when they’re fucking.

“Sorry,” Niall says, setting his teeth to the side of Louis’s neck, biting down hard for a second and making Louis gasp in spite of himself. “Have to pay you less attention next time.”

“Nah, you won’t.” Louis cups his chin and makes him look up. “Reckon you can’t take your eyes off me.”

Niall kisses him hard on the mouth at that, his tongue prying Louis’s lips apart. Louis is pretty sure he’s not wrong about where Niall’s eyes were going during the show. He feels like the centre of Niall’s bloody universe sometimes when they’re in front of a crowd, and it knots him up inside with feelings.

He’s slick and open on Niall’s cock, and it’s hard not to squirm, his own tease taking its toll, even though he loves kissing Niall, the way Niall cups his face and keeps him there, as though the kiss is the most important thing. Louis’s getting breathless from kissing, and Niall can’t seem to help rocking his hips a little, which feels like some kind of progress.

Niall’s getting into it more and more as they kiss, moving under Louis, making his whole body thrill with the promise of something even more intense. He’s still hard, and as Niall runs his hands all over Louis’s arse and thighs, squeezing at him and making him gasp, Louis hopes he’ll spare a thought for the neglected jut of Louis’s prick. But so far he’s delaying it, bloody tease, stopping at the tops of Louis’s thighs so his fingers are practically framing Louis’s cock, and then moving on. After a moment, Louis decides he’s had enough and starts a proper rhythm on Niall’s cock, thighs working as he lifts up and settles back down. Niall’s fingers still and tighten on his thighs, and he swears softly against Louis’s mouth, letting Louis take the lead, letting him fuck himself deeper and harder.

Louis sets his knees wider, bearing down, trying to get a better angle, but the squashy sofa cushions work against him. Niall takes a shaky breath. “Would it be better with me on top?” he asks.

“Try it,” says Louis. He pulls off Niall’s cock with a soft, slick sound, rolling onto his back and spreading his legs. It feels fucking obscene, with his arsehole swollen and smeared wet and right there for Niall to look at before he sinks straight back inside.

Niall’s in control this time, and the rhythm he sets is steady and punishing, each thrust rocking Louis down to his toes, pleasure sparking hot. Niall keeps his eyes on Louis’s face, planning his next thrust by the sound of Louis’s moans and the bend of his eyebrows, and Louis fucking knows that’s what he’s doing because Niall’s said. He’s nuzzled his face into Louis’s hair late at night and said, “You give everything away, Lou. You’re an open book.” And Niall’s right, when they’re fucking and there’s nothing Louis can do but watch Niall watch him falling apart.

He wraps his legs around Niall’s skinny hips and pulls himself up for the next thrust of Niall’s cock, hilting it inside himself and making Niall gasp at the deeper glide. It’s fucking perfect, Niall pounding his arse and knocking breathless little noises out of Louis’s throat. Louis reckons he’s about thirty seconds from coming as Niall leans in to kiss him, bending Louis’s legs even farther back against his chest. He opens his mouth to Niall, kisses him sloppy and distracted and tries not to yell as each thrust of Niall’s cock nails his prostate. It’s nearly too much, just that, and his cock is thick against his belly, his balls knotted up with tension.

Niall’s breath is getting short, and his cheeks are hot and flushed. It’s going to be over so soon, and Louis arches back on Niall’s cock, trying to tip himself over the edge. His legs are trembling, and he’s grunting into Niall’s mouth, barely kissing him as he wraps a hand around his cock and comes for about a year. He might tear up a bit, it feels so good to finally let go, his hips arching, his hole twitching around Niall’s cock.

Niall groans above him. “You want me to come inside you?” Niall says hoarsely, and Louis manages a nod. Better the mess in his arse than all over the sofa. Louis’s all shaky and sensitive, coming off the high of orgasm, and Niall’s rhythm turns quick and sharp as he pushes to get himself there too, panting into the side of Louis’s neck and gripping Louis’s hips. One last deep thrust and he holds there, crying out as he fills Louis up with his load, rocking forward a bit as he finishes. Louis feels slick inside, marked with it, and he lets himself wriggle on Niall’s sensitive dick, savouring it.

When Niall pulls out, it makes this slick, gross sound, and Louis feels emptied out and unsteady without Niall’s cock pinning him. “All good?” asks Niall, lips against his. Louis tilts his chin for the kiss and tries to avoid replying. He’s starting to realise he’ll have to make it all the way back to the hotel like this, full up with Niall’s come and trying not to let any of it leak out of him. It’s weird and intimate, and the thought of crowding into a car with the other lads like this makes him feel raw. Niall pulls away and looks him straight in the eye. “Are you good?”

“Messy,” admits Louis, grimacing. He can’t say the rest; maybe Niall already knows it. He loves Niall, loves him so much it’s scary at times, like Niall’s pried him open and has a hand squeezed tight around his heart. And still he can’t help thinking how glad he is for the time he kissed Niall for a laugh and Niall didn’t stop kissing him back. There are so many things that could be a joke between them, but now they’re not.

“Need me to lick it all back out of you?” Niall asks.

Louis grimaces. “Ugh, that’s vile.” Weird enough to have Niall’s tongue in his arse right after he’s showered (even though he loves it), miles worse after a show and a load of come up it. He can barely stand the idea of Niall touching him when he’s nearly dripping between his legs.

“It’s not. And I don’t want you making that face the whole rest of the night.” He bumps his nose against Louis’s. “Shouldn’t have done it, honestly.”

Louis swallows. “Asked you to, didn’t I?”

“You did, yeah.”

“And you liked it, didn’t you?”

Niall ducks his head and smiles sheepishly. “I like everything though.”

“I liked it too.”

“I wondered.” Niall strokes his hand up the inside of Louis’s thigh, cups it around the cheek of Louis’s arse. Louis flinches and Niall looks up. “Should I not touch?”

Louis bites his lip. “You can.” His breath catches as Niall strokes his swollen rim, rubbing sticky come into his skin, making him ache all over again. “We have to get back to the other lads soon,” Louis points out, trying to keep his voice steady, and he sees understanding dawn in Niall’s eyes.

“We could get our own car,” Niall says. “No one’d think anything of it.”

“They’d think plenty of it actually. We weren’t exactly subtle tonight.” Imagining Liam’s supportive smile over breakfast tomorrow already makes him twitchy.

“Fuck subtle,” says Niall. “C’mon. We’ll roll up the partition and I’ll blow you in the backseat. Tommo all on my mouth like liquor.”

Louis huffs a laugh, makes himself sit up, Niall sitting back between his knees. “You’re quite something, aren’t you, Niall?”

“Well, I’m no Beyonce, but I do all right.”

Louis doesn’t have words enough for how much more than all right Niall is. If he did, he reckons he wouldn’t be able to say them anyway. He kisses the tip of Niall’s nose instead.

**Author's Note:**

> You can come talk to me on [tumblr](http://realmenwearpuppypants.tumblr.com/) too.


End file.
